


A Beginner's Guide to Supersoldier Dating

by thedevilchicken



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Domestic Avengers, Everyone Is Alive, First Dates, Getting Together, M/M, Not Avengers: Endgame (Movie) Compliant, Post-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-04
Updated: 2019-08-04
Packaged: 2020-07-31 11:54:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,731
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20114680
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thedevilchicken/pseuds/thedevilchicken
Summary: Captain America needs a date to fundraising gala. Scott, for reasons even he himself can't actually fathom, volunteers as tribute.





	A Beginner's Guide to Supersoldier Dating

**Author's Note:**

  * For [dreamkist](https://archiveofourown.org/users/dreamkist/gifts).

Scott's not totally sure how this happened. 

Okay, no, scratch that: he's totally sure how this happened. He was eating breakfast in the Avengers compound, minding his own business just like always (he was absolutely not eating Black Widow's last remaining bagel filled with cream cheese he stole from Thor), when Cap came in with Falcon. Falcon narrowed his eyes at the bagel and Scott coughed as he poured himself a fresh coffee. Definitely not the last cup in the pot. At least he'd definitely put a fresh one on when he was done. 

"I don't see what your problem is," Falcon said to Cap, once his bagel-suspicion subsided. Cap put on the new pot of coffee and Scott tried his best to camouflage himself to the kitchen counter; it was kind of a pity he was wearing Avengers-branded sweats and not his suit or he could've made his getaway unnoticed. "You smile, you shake a few hands, you say a few words... people eat that stuff up with a spoon. You don't even need to make a speech. You just eat dinner and say thank you." 

Cap rummaged through the refrigerator. He totally stole Thor's cream cheese, too, and it turned out Black Widow had a secret stash of bagels behind Spider-Man's big box of Froot Loops. As he sliced the bagel, he glanced at Scott's plate then down at his own. Scott smiled sheepishly; Cap mimed zipping his lips. 

"Look, that's all fine," he said, and he turned back to Falcon, bagel in hand. "But it's not like you're the one who has to get all dressed up and grin all night long." 

"You're telling me the supersoldier serum didn't take care of smile fatigue?"

Cap laughed. He shook his head. "Sam, I can tell you from years of experience: they made me a better soldier but no matter what the newsreels say, they did _not_ engineer me for PR." 

Falcon held up his hands. "Man, I've seen those newsreels," he said. "I believe that one hundred percent." The coffee-maker beeped; he set about pouring two cups. "But look, it'll be fine. You'll have fun. Just...take a date." 

"Take a date?" Cap raised his brows. "Take a date. Who am I going to take? I mean, I could ask Nat... except she's got plans with the Bartons. Or I could ask Wanda. She'd love that, right? Maybe I should give Carol a call. I bet she's not at the other end of the galaxy right now and she'd love to catch a stuffy black tie gala dinner." 

"I'll go," Scott said. Cap and Falcon both turned to look at him. Scott grimaced. Hiding behind his coffee cup totally did not work the way he'd hoped it would. "Did I say that out loud?"

Falcon raised his brows. "Yeah, you really did," he said. He sounded every bit as incredulous as Scott was himself. 

A slow smile spread over Cap's face. "Yeah," he said. "You really did." And sure, so he said the exact same thing as Falcon did, but somehow it sounded really, really different. And he was looking right at Scott with those stupid big blue eyes and he was holding a purloined bagel in one hand, and he nodded seriously. 

"Meet me out front at seven," Cap said. "Fury's sending a jet. You heard me say it's black tie?"

Falcon frowned at Cap. Scott nodded mutely, kinda wondering what the hell he'd just volunteered for. Then the two of them left Scott there and exited stage right (stage left? who knew!), coffee and bagel in hand. 

_That_ is how this happened. He pretty much did it to himself. One of these days, he'll learn to keep his big mouth shut, but that day was not the day.

Of course, dinner was pretty good. Kinda fancy, kinda not the sort of thing Scott's usually into, but pretty good as long as he didn't think too hard about what it was, and he's gotten pretty skilled at that over the years. 

Cap leaned closer in the middle of the fish course - nobody had thought to tell him to expect a fricking _five-course meal_ \- and said, "Y'know, for a thousand bucks a plate, you'd think they'd serve a decent burger." 

Scott brows made a break for his hairline. "Jeez," he said. "For a thousand bucks a plate, you could buy the whole damn cow." He frowned. "But then Pete would go and name her Daisy and the next thing you know we've got cattle eating all the grass behind the tennis court. Does anyone even play tennis? I don't. Not well. Really not well. But I play some mean badminton. I mean, just pass me a shuttlecock and..." He winced. He bared his teeth and took a breath and speared a piece of fish with his fancy fork. And he meant to apologize for the mid-meal flights of verbal fancy, he absolutely did, but when he glanced sidelong at Cap, he was smiling. Jeez, the way Cap smiles sometimes, you'd think you'd reached on up and hung the moon; right then, all Scott could do was blush in the direction of his halibut. 

After dinner, they spent some time shaking hands and smiling, just like Falcon said they would. The suit Scott was wearing didn't fit so well - he wasn't exactly the kind of guy who had black tie dinnerwear on standby, and chances were Iron Man's actual Iron Man suit might've fit him better across the shoulders than his borrowed shirt under his borrowed jacket. The pants were a little too big and he'd spent ten wholly terrifying minutes getting the waist taken in by a team of Iron Man's lab bots. It wasn't exactly what he'd designed them for, but they did a pretty good job. You almost couldn't tell he was wearing a suit that was made to fit Tony Stark. In so many, many ways, Scott Lang just didn't measure up.

It was a fundraising thing for veterans, and Cap was the guest of honor - everyone and their dog wanted to talk to him and shake his hand. Scott started out hanging back but somehow he got swept forward; Cap's hand wound up at the small of his back and they made small talk with donors and veterans and donors who were veterans, smiled, shook some hands, and Cap said the kind of cool stuff Captain America always said. Nobody acted like it was weird Scott was there 'cause he was with Cap. Nobody acted like it was weird Cap had brought a guy. But between times, Cap glanced at him and smiled. Between times, they grabbed a drink and took a seat for a couple of minutes just to get off of their feet while the live jazz band played music other people danced to and they talked, about the last black tie dinner Cap had been to, at the Wakandan embassy with Bucky and Falcon and King T'Challa's sister Shuri. 

"Y'know, I think maybe she scares me more than any of the rest of you," Scott said. "I mean, she's so smart. And she's what, half my age? Maybe less. Probably less. I'm pretty sure it's less. She's nearly as young as my daughter." 

Cap looked at him. He raised his brows. "So, who else are you scared of?" he asked. Scott shrugged. "Tony?" he suggested.

"Well, he's a genius," Scott said. "And he flies. In a suit he made in his garage. You know what I make in my garage?" He gave a drumroll on the edge of the table. "If you guessed _kind of a mess_, I'm pleased to say we've got a winner!"

Cap chuckled. "Okay, bad example," he said. "Natasha?" 

"She kicks my ass twice a week. I'm more scared of her than Tony." 

"Sam?"

"Y'know, I'm pretty sure birds eat ants." 

"Bruce?"

"Well, he's green, he's about eight feet tall, and he has what, fourteen PhDs?"

Cap rested one elbow on the table and rested his head on one hand. He gave him a lopsided smile, all charm, the sort that had a great track record of making Scott kinda weak at the knees. 

"How about me?" Cap said. "Are you scared of me?"

Scott wiped his palms on his thighs. He smiled a little too widely. "Yeah, I take it back about Shuri; I'm scared of you most of all," he replied, then he gestured at him. "I mean, look at you. You're Captain fricking America." 

Cap paused a second, while the party went on around them. Right from the first time they met, Scott knew he had some kind of supersoldier superpower to make you feel like you're the only person left on Earth, and it was kinda like that then; Cap put his hand on Scott's shoulder and he squeezed over his borrowed jacket that probably cost more than Scott's last car did, and Scott could feel his chest get tight. He's always really admired Captain America, since way before he called him up and asked him to come beat up Avengers at an airport in Germany, and right then he's pretty sure he could've asked him to get up on the table and sing the theme from _Cats_ and he'd've done it. Not like he knows the songs from _Cats_, so maybe he'd've had to settle for _Phantom_ instead. 

"You know, Scott, sometimes I'm just Steve," he said. 

"And sometimes you're this amazing superhero everyone wants to shake hands with," Scott replied. He glanced over Steve's shoulder. He raised his brows.

"Like now?" Cap said. 

Scott nodded. "Like now," he confirmed. 

And then, glad-handing recommenced. 

Honestly, the night wasn't so bad - not nearly so bad as Cap had made it out to be that morning, at the very least. People were really glad to meet him, for the most part. Some of them even seemed to know who Scott was. Some of them weren't even pretending, which was pretty nice. And okay, so the smiling kinda took a toll on his cheeks, and there was a point when Cap turned and caught him making faces trying to get the ache out. There was a point when Cap stepped close and rubbed the sore parts of Scott's cheeks with both his thumbs, and Scott froze up like some kind of fool. Then he frowned, and he took a deep breath, and he reached up to Cap's cheeks to return the favor. 

Cap grinned, and cursed under his breath 'cause the grin hurt his cheeks and that was what Scott was meant to be helping, and Scott's hands went still. For a second there, pretty much all he was doing was cupping Captain America's jaw with his palms. For a second there, he was standing way too close and his cheeks felt way too warm and his pulse raced way too fast. It felt like a first date, not a favor. Then he stepped back. He coughed. 

"I think the congresswoman wants to speak to you," he said, and glanced away over Cap's shoulder. 

Cap nodded. But the look on his face before he pulled on his political smile said there was something else he'd've rather done right then than say nice things to influential people. 

The night wasn't so bad, and Scott was pretty sure that Cap being Cap, he would've gone along even if he hadn't gotten himself a willing victim to go with him. And, in the end, they said their goodbyes and they went back to their complimentary town car, and the driver took them back to the jet. Iron Man called on the way back to the compound and Cap took the call while Scott peered out of the window. The suit he'd gotten from Hank Pym maybe gave him a weird perspective on the world sometimes, even weirder than the lights on the ground from an airplane, but there was something about losing Cap's attention then that made him feel even smaller than he'd ever been before. 

The call was ending as the jet came down at the Avengers compound. They disembarked. Scott made for the door, figuring the night was over; Cap jogged a few steps to catch him up, and caught him by the door. They paused there, Scott propping the door open with his back.

"You know, I had a great time tonight," Cap said. 

"Sure," Scott said, wryly. "The haddock was to die for." 

"I'm pretty sure that was halibut." 

"Honestly? I'm pretty sure I'd've preferred a cheeseburger and a shake." 

Cap chuckled. He nodded. "Yeah, I know," he said. "Me too." Then he did a weird kind of thing with his face, like he frowned and he smiled at the exact same time, and Scott felt himself doing something pretty similar. 

Cap cleared his throat. He pulled himself up taller, like he needed any help being all tall and big and handsome, the stupid jerk. "Maybe that's what we should do next time," he said. 

Scott's face went right on doing that squinty-frowny-smiling thing. "_Next time_?" he asked. He made airquotes with both hands, like it was 1983. 

"If you want to go out again sometime." 

"Are you asking me out on a date?" Scott asked. Then he grimaced. He rubbed his eyes with both hands. "Oh wow. Awesome job, Lang. You totally didn't mean that. You meant if we go out as colleagues sometime, like if we save the world again and need to celebrate with fast food. Right? You meant--"

Cap put his hands on Scott's shoulders. He stepped in close, like maybe he was just going to fix Scott's tie. And Scott was still flapping his foolish gums when Cap pressed his mouth to his and shut him right the hell up. Captain America kissed him. He guessed _Steve Rogers_ kissed him, 'cause the suit and the shield really weren't anywhere in sight. And actually, he was even happier about it being _Steve_ instead of _Cap_. 

"I was asking you out on a date," Steve said, when he pulled back. He wasn't even far enough away that Scott could look at him. Their mouths were still really, _really_ close together. And wow, the tone of Steve's voice... it kinda took Scott a second to process how it was him who'd made him sound like that. 

"Are you free tomorrow?" Scott asked. 

Steve laughed. He pulled back. "Yeah, I'm free tomorrow," he replied. And the way he smiled made Scott smile right back. There was a building full of really smart, strong, cool people there behind them, but Cap - _Steve_ \- was still right there with him instead. 

The next afternoon, they had their real, official first date. Last night, they hit date number nine. Steve stayed in Scott's room after; they talked half the night and the rest of it... well, he can't say too much about that in polite company. 

And this morning, they're back in the kitchen, where it all began. Black Widow's surrendered her bagels and they're all pretty sure Thor just likes scrawling his name all over other people's stuff in runic Sharpie 'cause it turns out the cream cheese belongs to the cute guy who's definitely not a talking raccoon (even if he really, really looks like one). The Guardians come by pretty often. When Quill's around, at least Scott's not the only one whose musical taste got its last update in the 80s. Even Steve likes newer music than he does.

Steve spills coffee on his shirt - so much for Mr. Perfect - and Scott dabs it with a napkin with a teasing eyeroll Captain Marvel could probably see from outer space. And when Steve smiles at him, it's like no one else exists on Earth. Somewhere along the line he figured out that actually, y'know, he doesn't smile like that at everyone.

He knows how this happened. Kinda. He knows how it started, at least, with him blurting stuff out like he left his filter in the quantum realm. He's just not totally sure what he did to deserve it. 

Steve kisses him. Falcon groans (Scott's pretty sure he's teasing) and Black Widow slaps the back of his head, then she sits down next to him with her espresso.

He's not sure what he did to deserve this. But he's for damn sure not giving it back.


End file.
